Castles
by Mind of the Childishly Naive
Summary: That tiny red-head has been his only constant.  She brings out the best in him; she has from the very moment he knew to expect her. / drabble-type things
1. firefly

-x-

Castles  
><em>firefly<em>

-x-

"Richard, darling. What on _earth_ have you done to this room?"

This seems like an absurd question.

Seated on the floor, Castle straightens his back and lowers the paintbrush, his brow creasing as he takes a long, appraising look around at the dainty, freshly-lilac walls. He thinks it's fairly obvious what he's been doing, though the tone she inquired with makes his insides squirm self-consciously.

"There's nothing wrong with this room," he says, defensive.

"Well, there's nothing _wrong_ with it," Martha says, her hands held aloft as if she can't quite believe what she's seeing, "But it's... It's - "

"It's pink!" Castle says, "Little girls like pink."

"_Bright_ pink, dear, _loud_ pink. This is an ambiguous, dour smudge of purple - it looks more _blue_ than anything else." She falls silent for a moment, her arms crossed, then she points around the top of the walls, where there are several lines of curling silver words. "What's this?"

Some uncertainty creeps in here.

"I... wrote Alexis a story," Castle says slowly, tapping the bristles of the brush against the bottom wall and darkening the lilac paint there.

Martha doesn't say anything.

"I thought it was sweet," he insists, a little defensive again as his mother turns and steps across the room, over buckets and trays, newspapers and spare brushes, to read the words her son, the expectant father, has spent all day meticulously painting around the walls.

_(It starts with, "There was once a dark man in a dark, dark world...")_

Castle rubs the back of his wrist against his forehead and watches her, eventually returning, half-heartedly, to painting around the bottom trim. When Martha has circled the room eight times, when she's finished the story, she steps back into the middle of the room, her hands on her hips, and gives the four walls another look. Glancing up from the trim, Castle catches her eye.

"You could have let Meredith pick a better pallet," she says. There's a pause. "But it _is_ sweet."

A small smile crosses his face.

"Well, thank you, Mother."

He continues painting.

_(And it ends with a thank you, "To my little firefly, for the fires you light in my heart.")_

-x-

(A/n) For the first time in my life, I think, I have absolutely nothing to say other than I really hope you guys have as much fun reading these as I have writing them. C: I'm such a sucker for good dads doing their best. Must have been because I didn't have one of my own.

Reviews are appreciated!

-Motcn


	2. what he wants

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Castles  
><em>what he wants<em>

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He starts picking out books long before she is able to read them, and long before she is even here.

Meredith thinks he's being silly, but he firmly believes it's healthy to build up a good library from the very beginning and he starts with his own personal favorites from when he was a boy. His mother surprises everyone by unearthing a box of said favorites that she'd squirreled away (and even some embarrassingly short picture-stories he'd written in grammar school), and an entire nursery shelf is dedicated to nostalgia. Sometime during the fifth month, when he knows she can hear him, he starts putting those books to use.

He reads one out loud to Meredith's stomach every night, because if he is good at anything it's story-telling and he wants that to be obvious to her from the very beginning.

-x-

-Motcn


	3. for arguments' sake

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Castles  
><em>for agruement's sake<em>

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His three-year-old is afraid of storms, just like every other three-year old in New York.

And just like every other three-year-old anywhere, she is too head-strong and independent to admit it. That's part of the bliss that comes with childhood, Castle thinks as he listens to the rain hitting the modest apartment window. She makes excuses when he starts reading her bedtime story ("My can't hear you, Daddy, will you lay down with me?"), and he indulges her, even though he's much too big to fit comfortably in the toddler bed.

He somehow manages to wedge his broad shoulders in between the railings, one long leg slung over the edge of it, props himself up on her tiny, frilly, citrine pillow, and reopens Charlotte's Web to chapter five. Alexis wiggles down against his shoulder to get comfortable, throwing her legs out over his arm and hugging Monkey-Bunkie.

She rests her head on his chest when he starts reading aloud, so she can feel the words as well as hear them (that's her favorite part of every story).

Three pages in, the thunder cracks loudly.

Alexis gasps and jumps, raising her head and hitting Castle in the jaw mid-word. He bites his tongue. A flash of lightening accompanies it, and Alexis pulls the book out of her father's hand (the other is busy clutching his mouth) and covers her face with it. She touches the back of her head when she hears her father groaning and lowers the book.

"My sorry, Daddy," she says, and sits up, her scrawny elbow digging in to his collar bone.

"OW! Hey, alright, how about we lay back down," Castle says, pushing her back into her original place in the crook of his arm.

The thunder protests again and Alexis cringes, burying her face against his chest. Patting her reassuringly, Castle takes the book from her, flicks it open again, and continues reading. He swings his foot (the one hanging over the railing) in the same sort of low, rumbling rhythm that he reads the story in, so that by the time he's finished the chapter, his daughter is rubbing her closed eyes and is only mildly perturbed by the rumbling of thunder outside.

Marking his place, Castle reaches back to set the book on the night stand, beside the lamp, and pats Alexis absently while he contemplates the acrobatics necessary to get himself out of this toddler bed. He's almost convinced himself to get up when Alexis shifts against his side, laying her arm across his chest.

"Daddy, will you sleep with me tonight?" she mumbles, her eyes fluttering open.

Castle smiles.

"I think Daddy's a bit too big for your bed, sweetie," he murmurs, just for argument's sake.

"Monkey-Bunkie is scared," Alexis says, and pulls him out from under her so that Daddy can see just how scared he is. She waves his head so it looks like he's shaking. "Please?"

"Well," he draws the word out, pulls his dangling foot back across the railing and makes the most out of his lack of comfort.

"We don't want Monkey-Bunkie to be scared, now, do we?"

Alexis heartily agrees.

-x-

(A/n) Posting two in a row because that other one is so tiny. xD

-Motcn


	4. ruined

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Castles  
><em>ruined<em>

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"Richard, _let_ me take her out today. She needs _girl_ time, not _Daddy_ time," Martha insists, clutching her tiny granddaughter to her as if she expects her son to yank the child from her arms. She takes a few sideways steps towards the apartment door, but stops when he advances on them. She waves a disparaging hand. "You're being ridiculous!"

"_I'm_ being ridiculous?" Castle parrots wildly, "You're trying to take my child! And against her will -"

"She isn't _cryin_g - "

"Well, you didn't _ask _her either, did you, Mother? You just snatched her up while I was writing in the other room, and it's lucky I heard you come in. Do you _know_ how many children get abducted by people they know and trust from within the very safety of their own -"

"This is exactly what I'm talking about, Richard, this is _ridiculous_," Martha says, hefting Alexis, who doesn't really care either way and smiles innocuously around at her father and grandmother, "You work from home so you're here with her _all day_, _every_ day. You two _never _have any time apart."

"We're not _here _all day, I take her places! We go out all the time!"

"You didn't even hear that last part, did you?" Martha throws an exasperated hand into the air, rolling her eyes. She points at him. "That _we_ is the problem. You're over-protective."

She may as well have slapped him.

"I... I am not," he says, with as much dignity as he can muster after such a blow, "I'm a very healthy amount of protective for a single father trying to raise his daughter in New York."

His mother arches an eyebrow at him. _Oh really,_ that eyebrow says. Castle grimaces at it.

"Then let me take her out today," Martha offers, a hand on her hip.

Castle hesitates.

"But... what'm _I_ going to do all day?" he asks, somewhat lamely.

He can't openly deny that his days starts and finishes with the tiny red-head his mother is currently holding captive.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll think of _something_," Martha says, taking that final step and yanking open the door, "Write another book while we're gone."

"You aren't going to be gone that long!"

He panics. She pulls the door closed on him. And they do not return for three long, arduous hours, during which Castle punches out a few intermittent sentences, but mostly turns around and around in his computer chair, bores himself with several never-to-be-finished games of Solitaire, and occasionally rolls into the kitchen to refill his coffee mug. When two o'clock rolls around, he spends that last hour watching Alexis' favorite afternoon cartoons and it dawns on him just how pathetic his life really is without her.

He has nothing to do. No one to talk to.

It isn't any fun.

Apparently, however, the feeling is mutual. When Martha and Alexis return, the latter bounds in through the door with a delighted squeal of, "DADDY!" and throws her tiny arms around her father's neck. Martha drops her over-sized purse into the nearest chair, throwing up her hands as she sits on the arm of it.

"You've ruined her," she says dramatically. Castle grins at her around Alexis' hair and hugs her to his chest. "Completely _ruined_ her. The entire time we were gone she wanted to know when we were coming _back _because _Daddy _didn't come with us. The _entire_ _time_, Richard: _Where's_ Daddy? _Why_ didn't Daddy come with us? Were we getting Daddy something, too -"

Castle squeezes his daughter tighter, smooshing their faces together until she giggles and protests and tries to squirm free.

"I've trained you well, young one."

-x-

-Motcn


	5. remedy

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Castles  
><em>remedy<em>

-x-

He can't believe she's crying about this.

Honestly, earnestly _crying_ about _this_, of all the things to cry about.

Then again, this skepticism is from the man who, as a boy, was sticking the thermometer up against the lamp bulb when his mother wasn't looking. Castle tries to sound consoling when he reads her temperature for the second time that morning, "100.4."

Alexis takes several shuddering, gasping breathes.

"Sweetheart, the world isn't going to end if you miss _one day_ of school," he laughs, dropping his hands into his lap.

His eight-year-old starts crying again, "But it's mah-_my_ turn to feed _Hector!"_ Ah, the class guinea pig. Every day he finds her more and more endearing. Smiling broadly, Castle sets the thermometer down on the nightstand and pulls Alexis into his lap.

"Why are you so responsible?" he asks, brushing her hair out of her face and feeling her forehead as he does so.

It's easy to tell even without the thermometer that she has a fever; she's sweating and shaking, and the crying certainly isn't going to make her feel _any_ better.

"Suh-_someone_ has to be," Alexis says, and wipes her eyes.

She starts coughing and covers her face with her hands. Standing, Castle picks her up with him, blanket, Monkey-Bunkie, and all, and carries her into the living room with the wise reassureance that she will feel _much_ better after she spends a few good hours on the sofa watching cartoons.

"I think Road Runner's on right about now," Castle says brightly, depositing her on the sofa in the dark living room and turning on the nearest lamp to search for the remote.

Alexis sniffs loudly.

Castle thumbs through the channels until he finds the cartoons, then sits down beside her, running a hand back through her hair. Alexis waves his hand off and pulls her blanket up over her head, still upset about having to stay home. Her father tries to placate her,

"Do you want some Coco Puffs?"

"N-no!"

"Well, alright, then I'll eat breakfast by myself," Castle says nonchallantly, standing up and moving to the kitchen.

Alexis pokes her head out from under her blanket to watch him pour his cereal behind the counter, then turns her attention to the television. She disappears from view again when her father comes back into the living room and he sets a box of tissues on the coffee table before taking his seat on the cushion beside her.

She hears the spoon hitting the bottom of the bowl, the rustling of cereal.

"Just let me know if you change your mind," Castle says.

He props one leg up on the table and makes himself comfortable. He laughs a little too loudly when Wylie Coyote's Acme products backfire ("He never _learns!"_), comments about how _amazing_ these Coco Puffs are, and both of these tactics together eventually have his daughter peeking out from under her blanket. Alexis leans forward and takes a tissue from the box to blow her nose.

She watches the television for a few seconds, as Castle chuckles and takes another, deliberate bite of his cereal. She scoots closer and leans on his shoulder, and Castle wordlessly scoops up a spoonful for her.

"You want your own bowl?" he asks, because his is nearly all milk.

Alexis chews slowly, wipes her face with another tissue.

"Yes," she says quietly, "Please."

"Alright, sweetheart," Castle chuckles, leaning over to kiss her cheek before he gets to his feet.

He wolfs down the rest of his cereal before he gets to the kitchen and just refills his own bowl, topping off some of the milk. Alexis is situating her blanket, setting Monkey-Bunkie aside on the arm of the sofa, when he passes her the bowl and sits back down beside her, resting an arm on the back of the sofa. Craddling her bowl, Alexis wiggles and shifts until she is pressed against his hip, and is finally resigned to her day at home.

She really doesn't feel good though, and Castle winds up finishing off her bowl of cereal; and Alexis falls asleep watching Looney toons, bundled up under her blanket with her head in his lap.

-x-

(A/n) Thank you guys for all the wonderful reviews to far! C:

-Motcn


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